The More Things Change, More Things Stay the Same
by Elendil
Summary: Yes I realize I left out 'the' in the title. Darned max length. Introducing a sort of FOH for Evolution, and Jean winds up as their first target. Scott is not too happy about it. Reviews are, as always, highly appreciated. Ain't Duncan-bashing grand? :)


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The More Things Change...   
The More Things Stay The Same 

as roleplayed by   
**Elendil** and **Morgana**   
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**Disclaimer: **We don't own any of these fine young mutants, but if we did, this is what would happen to the plotline...   
  


Walking into Bayville High felt like passing a high-security military checkpoint. That is what it virtually was, anyhow. There were what looked to be commandos suiting up in some sort of field armor, sporting an array of devices with odd appendages and protrusions, no clues whatsoever as to what they did. They were pushing around what looked like gurneys, but didn't have anyone on them. It was too weird for him. Coming from a mutant, that was saying something. 

Not too far away, soccer practice didn't feel like soccer practice with an armed guard lining the fields around the track. Most of the girls' team were too distracted by the state of affairs to even do anything worthwhile. Jean, to her credit, had tried to get a normal game going, but gossip was the order of the day. Even the coaches were clustered together, discussing what was going on. 

One hand on her hip, Jean scouts the field for any of the students from Xavier's. They all knew what this was about, but Jean just wasn't a hundred percent sure that Evan and Kurt would take it very seriously. Spotting a familiar figure, she trots across the field and past the doorways to catch up with Scott. With the air of casual conversation, she neglects a greeting and comments, "I think Kurt 'ported home..." 

Scott nodded sagely, exhaling slightly. He'd ignored almost everyone today, being so bothered by this turn of events. Did Kelly really think they were so dangerous? Alright, so Lance and the Brotherhood were, but they were mostly harmless pranksters. "I don't blame him. I'm going to call the Professor and see what he wants to do about this." Given the growing gravity of the situation, he left without another word for the nearest payphone. 

Jean nodded her agreement. The professor would be able to tell them how to handle this. But even with that knowledge, Jean could feel her gut clenching at the thought of all the people around, here specifically for the purpose of find mutants and "controlling" them. 

The visitors to the school had been industriously busy though, and had started up their machinery. X-ray derivatives, scanning for physical abnormalities, gene analyzers for a random blood test, and perhaps the most vile - people kept in a coma, subjected to intense pain so that the anguish and suffering would roll off and indicate the presence of any telepaths in the area. 

The suited men split up into pairs, spreading out to cover different areas of the school, their scanning devices up and running. Their thoughts were full of a grim, predatory satisfaction. It would not be long now. 

Leaning against a stand of lockers near the payphones, Jean presses a hand to her temple. A passing uniformed man cast a suspicious eye on her, and she cowed. She managed to affect a nonchalant smile, and with a quick thought turns her movement into an exceedingly feminine flip of her notable red hair over her shoulder. Satisfied, the men walked on. Safe. She didn't dare speak to Scott telepathically and request brevity from him due to her growing unease at the situation; who knew what sort of devices these people carried. Her telepathy might easily be detected upon use. 

From some emptied classroom nearby, she heard voices commenting in what seemed to be an agreement. Perhaps one of their techniques was about to --- augh! Jean could feel her mind lurch, and her hand flew unrestrained to her temple again, a wave of nausea flooding her at the feelings of incredible pain emanating from all around her. Emerald eyes clamped shut, Jean failed to see the same men look back at her. Smug. 

The mutant hunters naturally caught the sight of the psychic reeling in pain. Radio commands were issued in a flurry, and more people rushed toward Jean, intent on locking her into binding cuffs and giving her healthy doses of sedatives. 

Jean found herself immediately swooped upon by any number of the armed hunters, and attempted, through the blinding pain, to push them away. A desperate, cornered psychic was not something you messed with, and they were discovering this as Jean managed to get a healthy wave of telekinesis in, sending several of the doctor-types into the opposite wall. The rest of them were quickly assaulted with another wave. "Scott!" 

Scott dropped the phone as the Professor continued speaking as he heard his name called. He was halted at the wall of bodies crowding around the scene. Duncan Matthews was on hand as well, playing the part of Brutus well. "God. I should've known Jean was a freak." He had one of the cheerleaders sidling up to him, agreeing with his new opinions of Jean. His hand clapped roughly on Scott's shoulder, his voice softer in a poor attempt at consolation. "You're lucky, Summers, the freak you live with is getting locked away where she belongs." Scott said nothing in reply, it was like he had become a statue, rooted to the spot. Even Teryn arrived, trying to coax Scott back into the cafeteria. "Just let it go, Scott." Scott's face hardened, the medics had injected Jean with a tranquilizer dart, though she was obviously fighting tooth and nail. 

Inside his mind was an all-out war. The Professor's mandate that their anonymity should be preserved on one side, his unyielding compassion on the other. It was the more subtle whispers from his heart that made the deciding vote. Wrenching his arm from Teryn's gentle grasp, his already tested emotions gained a minor piece of satisfaction. 

WHAM! Scott's fist met Duncan's jaw in a bit of a 'lapse.' Even as the football star fell backwards, his hand flew towards his head, still stinging with the pain of impact, tearing the restraining glasses free from his eyes. Teryn finally got her wish. She saw Scott Summers' eyes. Not blue, not green, and oooh, not even hazel. Red. Brilliant, glowing red. 

The crimson blast bowled over the populace of the hallway like dominoes. It barreled into the mutant hunters, knocking them aside like crumpled up newspaper. It ripped the school doors off their hinged, finally plowing into the armored van, pocking a huge dent in the side, slowly tipping it over. Scott quickly produced his visor from the pocket of his jeans, tucking his glasses away, fitting the visor over his eyes. 

This all happened while Jean was fighting enough tranquilizer to put out a creature far larger than she. Whilst being dragged away, she did manage to catch sight of a blast of red, but her mind didn't register where it had come from. She passed out before she could even call out again. The mutant hunters took advantage of the moment to restrain her and place her on an intravenous sedative. 

In the hallway, Kitty and Rogue had just arrived, along with a few snickering members of the Brotherhood. Kitty seemed appalled, and Rogue stood in silence at the wreckage of the hallway and the people backing away from Scott. Placing a tentative hand on his arm, the younger girl speaks slowly. "Scott... I think we should go meet the professor... we can't do much here right now..." 

Scott whirled on Kitty, the determination etched into every line and contour on his face. "Wrong, I can do something. Right here, and right now." Matching action to words, he was off, sprinting down the aisle of people he himself had cleared. Twisting a knob on his visor, he adjusts his lenses to emit a more focused discharge, and looses three staccato beams, catching each of the mutant hunters surrounding Jean in the chest. He hoped it cracked their ribs on a wholly primal level. 

Extricating Jean from the bonds they had trapped her in proved too tedious for Scott, finally breaking the cuffs into bits with an even more focused shot. Being as heavily sedated as she was, he knew she would never be able to walk or do anything, so he lifted her easily, carrying her into the bright sunshine through the smashed doors. 

Kitty was startled, but not entirely surprised, but Scott's adamant reponse, and didn't try to persuade him otherwise, merely gestured to Rogue to follow along and help out. His determination proved that they didn't have to do much. None of the hunters were brave enough (or stupid enough) to try and stop them. Xavier waited outside the school, Storm by his side and Logan hanging back as crowd control. 

The aging telepath sighed heavily at Jean's unconscious figure and wordlessly gestured Scott towards the van. This was a dark day for all of them. To the hushed vigilance of the crowd, the Xavier students pile into the vehicle. The wisest course of action here was a selective mindwipe and the telepath did so with all haste. The official story that would be released on the six o'clock news was that there had been a small explosive. 

Most people believed it. If they didn't, they shook their heads and wondered why they thought something different. Unfortunately, this sort of clean-up would not always be on such a small, accommodating scale, but for now, Xavier was thankful it was. But there was always a speck of dust missed in the cleanup, and that speck's name is Duncan Matthews. Rubbing his jaw, the jock glared after the van. "Freaks," he muttered. 

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Scott leaned on one of the mansion's many balconies overlooking the bay. Xavier had not been overly happy, but this one instance in which Scott found he did not care all that much. He had done what he had to, and he did not feel bad for doing so. Logan's mildly impressed snort had been hard to suppress grins for - "Nice." It had been hard not to grin at the Professor glaring at Wolverine as well. 

A few hours and a good sleep later, Jean was restless to be up and about. She'd managed to sweet-talk Logan out of alerting the professor when she padded quietly out of the med-lab. She suspected Xavier would know, anyhow, but where she was headed wasn't a danger to her health at all. Tugging her robe tightly around her slim figure, Jean stepped out onto the balcony. "Hey..." 

Scott turned to look over his shoulder, smiling slightly at Jean. "Hey. Feeling better?" Same old Scott. He never could find the words to be much more eloquent than he was outside of combat and being the 'fearless leader'. 

Jean chuckled, coming to lean against the balcony beside him. "Ah, I'm still a little woozy, but it'll pass." Grinning sidelong at Scott, she added, "Kitty wasted no time telling me Duncan went to the hospital for a cracked jaw. Do I want to know?" She was well aware of why his jaw had been cracked, and the comments that provoked it, and an almost injured look passes over her features remembering what she'd heard said as she was restrained. 

Scott's face wore a mere grim smile, as if he felt it was unfortunate Duncan had been hurt. "Guess he ought to watch what he says from now on." He rubbed his knuckles absently, feeling a bit bruised, but he didn't mind, considering the net result. 

Jean smiled off across the bay at that, taking a deep breath of the breeze that brushes over their perch. "Hm, it seems like I'm thanking you a lot lately, but.. yeah. Thanks. It scares me to even think of what those people had in mind for me and anyone else they picked up." Shaking her head a little ruefully, she adds, "I guess there's something to be said for having a big macho guy around sometimes." 

Scott couldn't help but chuckle. It was probably the first time anyone had ever referred to him as 'macho.' "Yeah, well...anytime, Jean." Scott could just have well said - "As you wish." Would have been about the same. Jean looked better than Robin Wright though, so he had it better than Wesley. 

Jean beamed quietly, failing pitifully at hiding her decidedly mushy thoughts. Just call her Buttercup. Silence reigns for a few moments as she seems to be mesmerized by something far in the distance. But not really, she's just musing to herself over what kind of puddle she'd be if he kept up his selfless acts of chivalry. All in quite a bit of a flurry, though, she turns and places a kiss on his cheek before pacing back inside. Smirk. 

Scott stared after the vanishing form for a good number of minutes after she had gone. He finally turned back to face the bay, his cheek still rather flushed. "Wow." The word he usually used to describe her. The way he had described her upon first meeting her. "Well, Scott," he mused to himself, "I think we could go through that again for such a reward." A long pause. "Right, I am crazy."   
  
  


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